by Chrys Fey
She lifted her hands to either side of her face and lowered her body into a fighting stance. “Are you?”
He barely had time to mimic her position before Beth jabbed out with her fists. He blocked the blows. She advanced on him, pushing him back. Determination was bright in her eyes. Her breathing was deep, lifting her chest. The movement pulled his gaze to her breasts and the pale scar stretching across her chest. The glimpse nearly awarded him with a punch to the face. He bent backward, narrowly missing Beth’s purple glove.
He popped back up as she landed a spinning back fist to his jaw. She took a step back with a smirk on her face.
Donovan worked his jaw back and forth. The hit hadn’t been hard, but it had rattled him. “Are you trying to hurt me?”
She innocently lifted her gloved hands. “This was your idea.”
“So it was.”
He blocked more of her jabs and sent his own that she blocked in return. It didn’t take long before he was sweating. The sound of their padded gloves thumping into each other filled the studio. Beth bobbed and weaved to avoid his hits, but one connected with her left shoulder. She retaliated with a sequence of punches. When she mixed in uppercuts with jabs and used her legs to distract him, she was able to score another hit to the side of his head.
He shook his head as if to erase the punch. Deciding to end their fight, he looked for an opportunity to take her down. When one opened up, he took it. His foot swept her legs out from under her. As she fell, he caught her and cushioned her fall with his body. Then he rolled so she was beneath him. Before she could attempt to throw him off, he dipped his head and brought his lips to her neck.
Beth’s body went still under his, as if his mouth on her skin shocked her. His lips trailed down her neck to her chest. He licked the end of her scar, savoring the saltiness on his tongue. His mouth moved to her breasts, and he sucked gently on the swell peeking over the neckline of her top.
A soft moan left her lips. “Foul,” she panted. “You’re cheating.”
He lifted his head and grinned. “I call this winning.”
Beth shifted beneath him. In the next second, her fist collided with his gut. The hit wasn’t as strong as it would’ve been if she was fighting off an attacker, but it still dislodged his breath. As he dropped, she escaped from beneath him. When he rolled over, Beth was ripping off her gloves. She tossed them to the side and crouched, ready.
His brow lifted. Intrigued. She wants to wrestle? This could be fun.
He stripped off his gloves and engaged Beth in a little dance as they circled each other, looking for an opening to strike. He made a move first and took her down. On the mat, they rolled and twisted. Their bodies bumped into each other, sending electric charges throughout Donovan’s body. Every time he gained an advantage on Beth, she’d perform a maneuver to switch their positions. She growled in his ear, a sound that invigorated him. He enjoyed putting his hands on her slick body as they snaked around each other; the positions they got stuck in were a lot of fun, too. Several times, his face was near her breasts or between her legs. He started to employ a few illegal techniques to win, like teasing her nipples through her top with his mouth and trailing a finger along the crotch of her pants. Her growls became moans, and her fighting became more aggressive. More sexual.
Their wrestling had turned into foreplay, a game Donovan thoroughly enjoyed. Each time their bodies rubbed together, it was as if they were in bed, tangled in a match of lovemaking. His hands sought her curves. He locked his legs around her, flipped her into the air, and pinned her beneath him. He was grinning down at her when he noticed tears in her eyes. His grin faded. His heart hitched.
Fear rattled his core. What did I do?
He released her. “Did I hurt you?” She tried to turn away, but he caught her face in his hands and turned her head back. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” Her voice shook with the emotion trapped in her throat.
He pulled her into a sitting position and caressed her arms. “You’re that mad at me?”
She swiped away her tears as she shook her head.
“What did I do?” He couldn’t stand the thought of causing Beth to cry. He never wanted to do that. Ever.
Beth dropped her head onto his shoulder. Her hands clutched his arm, and her body shook as she cried. “It’s not you,” she finally said. “You didn’t do anything.”
“Then what is it? Please talk me.”
She took in a shuddering breath and leaned back. Her eyes were red and tear-lined. “We were wrestling, and I started to think about April. I saw it all in my head, everything that monster did to her. I felt her fear. All of a sudden, I was overcome by it. I’m sorry.”
Donovan wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “Don’t apologize.” He kissed her flushed cheek. “Is that why you’re aggravated? I thought you were mad at me.”
She shook her head. “I was mad at him. And I was scared. I’m sorry for taking it out on you.”
He shrugged. “It’s what I’m here for. If you need to vent, feel free to hit me upside my head.”
Beth smiled at that as he hoped she would.
“What about on the phone? You sounded shaky in your voicemail.”
Beth lowered her eyes. She had a habit of breaking eye contact when she didn’t want to say something. It wasn’t a good sign.
“I got a call.”
Donovan stopped breathing. The first time she had said those words was the day they came back from California, and a man had threatened her. He recalled her exact words. He said we pissed off the wrong people, and they’re coming for us.
He clenched his hands into fists. “What did they say?” He couldn’t keep the anger from his voice.
“‘Did you think we forgot about you, Beth?’” Her gaze lifted, penetrating him like daggers. “‘We didn’t.’”
Chills curled around his spine, followed by a wave of lava that rushed through his veins. He hated that they were harassing Beth. If they would call him, he’d be more than happy to hear their threats and issue a few of his own. But calling Beth enraged him.
“Beth…” He delicately held her chin with his fingers. “You’re safe with me. Whoever they are, they’re not going to hurt you. Not if I have anything to say about it. We’ll find out who they are and get them, just as we got Chewy, Buck, and Jackson Storm.”
In the first takedown, Beth had killed a corrupt cop. In the second, they had both come out of it battered and beaten. And in the last, Beth almost had been Jackson’s hostage.
“Well, maybe not like those other times.” He slid his hands up and down her arms. “I’ll make you a promise, if you can promise me something.”
Beth sniffed. “What?”
“You’ll help Thorn get Ramirez, and I’ll help Thorn find the assholes who are harassing you. Deal?” Donovan stared into her eyes, never breaking eye contact. He wanted her to know he was serious. Dead serious.
It’s time this ends. Once and for all.
Beth nodded. “Deal.”
Chapter Four
When Donovan left to practice for his next monster truck show, Beth called her friend, Leighton Ford, to go shopping with her. Leighton flounced out of her apartment in a short skirt and high heels. Her blonde hair bounced with each step. She hopped into Beth’s car, filling the space with the smell of her sandalwood perfume. Why Beth and Leighton were friends was a mystery. They met in the self-defense class Beth took as a teen, and that was all they had in common. They had attended different high schools. Not even their interests, personalities, or cup sizes were the same. Beth was a perky B and Leighton was a voluptuous D. But they had bonded as teens, nonetheless, and that friendship had lasted.
Leighton pouted her bubblegum-pink lips. “No Donovan?”
“You don’t want Donovan with us while we shop for…what we’re shopping for.”
“Which is?”
Beth glanced at her friend before backing out of the driveway. “You can’t repeat what I’m going to te
ll you.”
Leighton batted her thick, black lashes. “I’m intrigued.”
Beth shot her a look.
“I swear I won’t repeat a word.” She crossed her heart and held up two fingers.
Beth told Leighton about being Thorn’s civilian operative and her mission to bring down a man who brutalizes prostitutes.
“So we’re buying weapons?”
Beth grimaced at what she was about to say. “No, I need a disguise and…props.”
Leighton laughed and clapped her hands. “You mean a hooker’s outfit and sex toys! This is going to be so much fun.”
Beth did not feel her enthusiasm. She pulled in front of a store called Virgin No More with pink trim and sexy lingerie in the window. A sign advertised whips, edible panties, and a wide selection of vibrators.
The air inside the shop was scented with roses and vanilla. A woman stood behind a black counter. White silhouettes of men and women tangled in various sex positions covered the surface.
“Hello, ladies. Would you like an aphrodisiac to enhance your shopping experience?” She waved her hand at a silver tray where sliced figs and pieces of dark chocolate tempted customers.
“No, thanks,” Beth said.
“Are you two a couple? We have a sale on strap-ons.”
Beth’s jaw unhinged in embarrassed horror.
Leighton giggled and hip bumped her. “She thinks we’re lesbians. No, we’re not a couple. Beth is engaged to a fine male specimen. And, although I haven’t personally seen it, he no doubt has a meat sword that would put all your dildos to shame.”
Beth gaped at her friend. “Shut. Up.” She peeked at the woman behind the counter whose blush matched her unnatural Crayon-red hair. “We’re just going to look around.” She grabbed Leighton’s arm and pulled her toward the clothing section. “The next time you bring up my fiancés meat sword, I’ll deck you.”
“Don’t be embarrassed, honey, own it.” Leighton moved to a rack. “What exactly are we looking for? French maid costumes or street hooker getups?”
“I was hoping for sexy, not trashy.”
“Gotcha.”
They hunted through several racks before settling on an outfit Beth felt could lure men to her with their tongues hanging out of their mouths but wouldn’t reveal any of her goodies if she had to make a run for it. Then they went to the sex toy section.
“Did you have anything in mind?”
“Well, April had handcuffs with her, so I figured I should, too.”
Together, they faced a wall displaying many different handcuffs. Some were colored—red, pink, black. Some were in the shape of hearts, and some were adorned with feathers. Beth looked at them with wide eyes. Handcuffs have come a long way from apprehending bad guys. A long, long way.
“There’s the durable cuffs.” Leighton pointed at the thick cuffs in a rainbow of colors. “And the kinky cuffs.” She indicated the rows of fuzzy cuffs. “Then there’s the cuffs for sensitive people.” Those cuffs were wrapped in rubber and other soft materials to protect fragile skin.
“I guess I’ll go with kink.”
Leighton nodded. “Nice choice. Do any catch your fancy?”
Beth stared at the wall. Leopard print, hot pink and glittered fuzz, even ostrich and peacock feathers. The choices were daunting. “How the hell am I supposed to choose?”
“Imagine using them on Donovan.” Leighton winked. “Or him using them on you.”
Leighton had a good idea; Beth would be able to select one if she imagined Donovan and her playing with them. It was a thought that gave her tingles. She peered back at the wall and pictured Donovan leaning over her in bed. The lights were off. His chest bare. His hands moved to the headboard to cuff one of her wrists to the post. Her gaze landed on a pair of cuffs with violet fuzz, the same color as Donovan’s eyes. The most she planned on doing with them while undercover was giving Ramirez a glimpse of them in her purse. They wouldn’t be tainted by touching his skin, so she knew they were the ones she had to get. She reached up and showed the chosen pair to Leighton.
“You’re good.” Leighton took down a second pair.
“What’s that for?”
“Honey, you need two to cuff each wrist to a bedpost.”
“Oh.”
They moved to the shelves with little trinkets used for foreplay. Beth passed the clamps and picked up a small, black, bullet-shaped device the size of her thumb. “What’s this?”
Grinning, Leighton snatched the object from Beth’s palm, fiddled with it, and then gave it back.
Beth’s hand vibrated. She dropped it as if it had turned into a cockroach. It buzzed on the floor. Beth felt like stomping on it.
“What in the world is that thing?”
Leighton picked it up and held it between her thumb and forefinger. “This little doohickey is a vibrating butt plug.”
Beth cringed. “Yeah, don’t need that. Next.”
After three hours of shopping, Beth returned home with three bags, which she intended to hide under the bed before Donovan could see them. No such luck, though. He was in the living room when she walked through the door.
“Hey, you’re home early,” she said.
“Yeah, my run-through went smooth. I see you went shopping.” When his eyes lowered to the bags, she tried to hide them behind her legs. “Do those bags say Virgin No More?”
Crap! I should’ve put everything into Walmart bags. “Umm…”
“You bought the outfit you’re going to wear undercover, didn’t you? Show me.” He stole the bags from her hands.
Heart pounding, she followed him to the table. “I thought of you when I picked out everything.”
Donovan set the bags on the table and turned to her. His eyes glimmered with heat. “That doesn’t make me feel better about what you bought.”
“I meant that I thought about you killing me if I wore anything too revealing.”
“Baby, you wearing a white T-shirt around this guy would be too revealing.”
She rolled her eyes.
From the first bag, he pulled out a tiny pair of leather shorts with two gold chains dangling off the front. “I figured shorts would be the most reasonable option.”
He arched a brow at her, clearly not liking that they were hoochie shorts. Next, he brought out a red crop top by the straps. He lifted it to his face and inspected the ribbons that made the top look like a corset. “Small, isn’t it?” By the tone of his voice, she knew he wasn’t happy.
“It’ll show a bit of skin on my midriff.”
“And a lot of cleavage.”
“I don’t have a lot of cleavage,” she corrected.
His eyes cut through her like violet daggers. Her statement didn’t help her cause.
He set the top aside and reached for the second bag. From this one, he brought out a pair of red shoes with three-inch heels. They glittered like ruby slippers. Beth thought they were cute and lethal with those spikes. If she had to fight back, a kick to the stomach could puncture a kidney.
Donovan set them aside without a comment.
She swallowed. Is that good or bad?
He pulled the last bag to him.
Beth winced.
He peeked inside. Then his head snapped up.
She shrugged.
He dipped his hand inside the bag and lifted out the handcuffs with a curled finger. He dangled them in the air. A silent question hung between them.
“April had a pair, and Ramirez knew that,” she said. “I think he likes it when the women provide their own restraints that he can later use on them when he…” Her words faded. She didn’t have to say what he did to them. The image was imprinted on both their minds. “But I picked those out for you.”
“For me?”
Beth nodded. “Don’t you remember saying bondage with me would be fun, and you’d enjoy being my submissive?” He had said it in California while recovering from fractured ribs.
The corner of Donovan’s mouth tilted up.
> Seductive delight fluttered through Beth. He remembers.
He set the cuffs down and brought out a bottle of oil. Eyeing her, he waited for an explanation.
“Again, April said she had oil. I thought having a few things in my bag would solidify my cover, but I thought you and I could have fun with them.” Blood rushed to her cheeks. “It heats on contact and is cherry flavored.”
Donovan licked his lips. Whether on purpose or involuntary, she didn’t know, but heat flooded between her legs. No oil necessary. He continued to search inside the bag. The next toy had him grinning when he faced Beth. He had a tiny vibrator stuck on his finger. “I don’t think I can let you use this one on your own.”
“I wasn’t going to,” she said.
Donovan’s grin widened. The last item was a blindfold. “This will come in handy.”
Beth’s mouth went dry. “Do you approve?”
He dipped his hands into his pockets. “The outfit is sexier than I had hoped, but you’ll only wear it once. As for everything else.” He paused to look at the tools in question. “I approve.”
****
The next day, Beth stood in the bathroom in her hooker’s costume. She had slicked baby oil over her legs to make them glisten and strapped the heels to her feet, which did wonders to her legs. Her height went from five-foot-eight to six-foot-one, the same height as Donovan. The itty-bitty shorts molded to her curves and stopped short of her butt. The crop-top thrust up her boobs, as if announcing, “Hey, check out the girls!” And a strip of tan skin peeked out from beneath the top. She had brightened her lips with red lipstick, dressed her eyes with half a tube of mascara, a ton of liner, and layers of dark eyeshadow. Not even her hair looked the same. She had fluffed it beyond recognition.
Staring in the mirror, she felt especially slutty.
A knock on the door made her jump. She tugged on her shorts. “Yeah?”
“It’s me.” Donovan’s voice came through the closed door. “How are you doing?”
“Good. I’m almost done.”
“Can I come in?”
The thought of him seeing her like this had her heart rate picking up speed. “Sure.”
